


Distractions

by littlepip



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepip/pseuds/littlepip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca and Chloe's first meeting, as witnessed by someone sharing their table in a cafe. <br/>AKA the wonderful, classic trope of "your OTP does cute shit from the perspective of a stranger." </p><p>and AKA x2 the one-shot that somehow became 3 chapters long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Cheers, man.”  
  
“No worries, enjoy.”

As I carefully take my coffee from the barista I turn around and begin scanning the café for a good spot to set up and work. It's reasonably busy for a Tuesday afternoon, and someone's sat in my usual place by the window, but I'm not that bothered. I'm not one of those weirdos who has “their” seat and freaks out when they can't sit there. So I quickly move instead to a large, communal table towards the back corner of the café. The only other occupants are two girls on the end of the table, sat opposite each other, and both engrossed in their laptops.

Only one of them looks up as I clumsily place my coffee down, spilling a little into the saucer.  
“shit, fuck-”

I grab a couple of napkins from a nearby counter, and when I look back the redhead is no longer looking in my direction but instead is peering over her laptop at the stranger opposite her- a girl with excessively large headphones on and a frown on her face as she stares intently at whatever she's working on, fingers poised over the keyboard but unmoving.

The redhead is still staring when the girl opposite her suddenly breaks concentration and stretches dramatically, her eyes scanning across the room absently, flicking over the the red haired girl at least twice in the process. I notice that the redhead is suddenly paying large amounts of attention to her screen again, lip held in her teeth in faux-concentration. I smile briefly as I pull out my own laptop. I love people watching, it's part of why I come here to work. Other people's stories are my best inspiration when I need a burst of it, and I've got a killer creative writing project that I've not been able to crack for weeks now. But the assignment's due Friday, so I've decided to settle in here, where the coffee and people watching are both excellent. And I'm pretty pleased I seem to have picked a good table for it, happy in the knowledge that many years of covert people watching has made me apparently much more adept at it than my table-mates.

 

I'm halfway through what will probably be the first of many coffees, and a tiny fraction into my work when I hear a voice closer to me than the rest of the general café hubbub. I look up from my screen briefly to work out where it's coming from.

“What are you listening to?”  
  
The small brunette girl roughly pulls her headphones away from one ear, pushing a strange tangle of hair up the side of her head.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“What are you listening to? Your head was bobbing around and you looked kind of into it, you got me all intrigued” the redhead says with a friendly smile on a face, leaning forward slightly.  
  
“Uh, it's, uh nothing,” the brown haired girl says, pushing her headphones the whole way off, “I uh, I mean, I'm working on...a thing. A track. I make, um, mixes. It's kind of my...thing,” she trails off.  
  
“Are you a DJ?”  
  
“Not yet,” she adds a small, shy smile. There's an awkward pause whilst the redhead just stares, smiling. “I should uh, get back to it. This one's kinda kicking my ass.”  
  
“Sure, sorry to interrupt,” says the redhead, smile still firmly in place. “I'm Chloe by the way” she points needlessly at herself as she says it and then looks vaguely embarrassed by the gesture as she returns her hands to her coffee mug.  
  
“Uh, Beca.”  
  
“Nice to meet you, DJ Beca,” Chloe says with a wide grin that looks almost impossibly cheerful.  
  
“Yeah. I mean. You too.” Beca has a blush growing up her cheeks as she pulls her headphones back over her ears.

I think briefly about adding “And I'm Liam,” as a joke but they clearly have no interest in my presence at the table and I get the impression it wouldn't go down well.

Over the next half an hour the rate of sneaked looks goes up rapidly, both trying not to get caught but failing to an almost hilarious degree.  
  
“Ugh” Chloe pushes the textbook next to her laptop closed with a thud, and shoves all her fingers into her hair, dragging it back from her face with frustration. Beca's looking over her as she does it, the expression on her face suggesting that the feeling's mutual. Chloe snaps her eyes to Beca's, and mimes pushing the headphones off. The brown haired girl obeys immediately.

“I need more caffeine if this essay is going to happen, can I get you anything while I'm there?” She gestures towards the counter with a hopeful look on her face.  
  
“Uh, no it's okay, I mean. I was going to go up myself in a minute. So it's...cool. But thanks.”  
  
“Well, duh, in that case you should let me get it. Now that you've told me that you want one, I insist.”  
  
“Um. Okay. Sure, then I guess. Thank you.”  
  
“Same again? Just black right?”  
  
“Yeah, just black.”  
  
Chloe jumps up.  
  
“Alright. Back in a mo.” She grins at Beca before bouncing over to the counter, purse in hand.

 

When Chloe comes back with two coffees on a tray, I've all but given up on work. Apparently there's such a thing as getting TOO into people watching, though it's not really something I've experienced before. Yet somehow these two are more entertaining than the scenario I'm attempting to hash out, so I stare at the blinking cursor marking the 912 word mark in my at-least-2500-word assignment, and listen.

“Thanks.”  
  
“No problem, Beca.”  
  
“Here, I'll, uh, pay you back.”  
  
“No, no, no I insisted, remember?”  
  
“Right. Thanks.”  
  
“Besides, this means you have to get the next one.” I sneak a look up and take in Chloe's ridiculous grin as she holds her cup part way to her face.  
  
“Dude, are you trying to kill me? If I drink that much caffeine in one day I won't sleep until next week. I'm already twitchy” She holds out a slight shaky hand to prove it.  
  
“Well. I didn't say it had to be today.”  
  
Beca's mouth falls open and she looks anywhere but Chloe for a short while before looking intently into her eyes, a smirk working its way onto her face. “You're very forward, you know. It's kinda unnerving.”  
  
“Thanks!” Chloe smiles widely, looking like she genuinely believes it was meant as a compliment of the highest order. “So are you going to let me listen to that mix?”  
  
“Um. No?”  
  
“Aw come on. I bought you coffee and I'm so bored of this essay. The least you can do is entertain me,” practically singing the end of the sentence and raising her eyebrows in a hopeful manner.  
  
“I thought I was buying you more coffee to pay you back for the coffee?” She gestures across the various cups littering the table.  
  
“Well, you can do this instead, if you want.”  
  
“But then you don't have an excuse to meet me here again.” Beca raises her own eyebrows and leans back in her chair, taking a sip of her drink and trying not to look minorly horrified by what she just said.  
  
Chloe lets out a burst of laughter. “That is a problem.” Chloe nods her head gravely. “You'll just have to let me listen out of the goodness of your own heart then.”  
  
Beca laughs herself at this, looking genuinely carefree for a brief moment before she looks straight at Chloe, bites her lip and pushes the headphones slowly across the table. Chloe literally wriggles in her seat with excitement as she takes hold of them, and Beca looks about as bemused by this as I am entertained.

It's at this point that I realise I am unabashedly staring. I'm still on 912 words, and my coffee's been empty for at least ten minutes. But I'm not moving right now. What if I miss something good? I pull up a copy of the assignment brief, and pretend to be studying it intently, eyes flicking over the top of the computer screen every few seconds.

Chloe has slipped the headphones over her ears and is looking at Beca expectantly. I can tell the instant the song starts, because Chloe's face fills with a sudden joy and Beca's simultaneously with unguarded apprehension.

Realising the song is probably at least 3 minutes long, I quickly grab my chance to run over to the counter to get a top-up of my coffee. I literally run, before realising this is the least subtle thing I've done in a whole string of worryingly unsubtle behaviours, and slow down suddenly part way across the floor. The man at the counter looks vaguely amused as I fight a blush and croak out my order. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me today.

I peer around a pillar to glance over to the table as the barista works on my drink. The back of Chloe's head is moving around enthusiastically to whatever beat she can hear, and Beca looks like she's trying not to stare at her, and failing.

As I sit down, Chloe's pulling the headphones off again.  
“That was amazing! Wow. I love those songs, they sound so good together. Who knew? That's the one you've been working on today?”  
  
“No, that was one of...my favourites, I guess. Today's one is still shit.” She lets out a huff of laughter.  
  
“I'm sure that's not true. You're like really good. I'm sure you'll be super successful someday and I can tell people I got to listen to one of your songs in a coffee shop.” Chloe looks utterly thrilled at the thought. Beca just looks bashful.  
  
“Thanks. I'm glad you like it, I guess.”  
  
They stare at each other smiling for a brief moment.  
  
“So...you've had your entertainment, now you should get back to work, procrastinator. That essay's not going to write itself. And I've got to, uh, un-shit-ify this mix.” She waves a hand at her computer screen and grimaces.  
  
“Yes ma'am,” Chloe salutes at Beca and immediately positions her hands back at the keyboard.

 

Another quiet twenty minutes passes, though this time when the two of them glance up at each other they actually make eye contact and smile. I find myself thinking it's unbearably cute, and then wondering again what the hell is wrong with me today.

Chloe's just drained the last of her coffee when she shuts her laptop slowly and gazes over at Beca, who obediently slips off the headphones. Chloe smiles over at her sweetly.

“I'm all done. So I'm gonna head off home before I get a headache from staring at this screen too long” She waves a thumb towards the door as if Beca wouldn't know that was how you came in and out of the building.

“Oh, uh, sure. Well done. You did better than me. My mix is a goner I think. Irredeemable. Probably one for the recycle bin.” She shakes her head despondently.

“You should at least let me listen to it first?” Chloe pulls her best wide-eyed expression, and it seems to do the trick.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Beca smiles.

“Tomorrow, huh? I'm coming back so soon? What if I don't have anything I need to work on tomorrow?” Chloe pulls the most flirtatious smile I've ever seen anyone give, and once again Beca responds in exactly the way I assume Chloe intends.

“Well, you'll just have to endure the pleasure of my company instead.” The way Chloe's smile quickly switches from flirtatious to comically wide seems to alert Beca that she said something she wasn't really expecting too. “I mean...if you want to, of course. I, uh, will probably be here anyway, so...” she taps her hands on the edge of the table and avoids eye contact for a moment. Chloe laughs gently.

“I'll see you tomorrow Beca,” she says as she neatly tucks her belonging back into her bag and shrugs on her coat.

“Here-” Chloe suddenly gets up, leans right across the table and quickly scrawls across the notepad Beca has open next to her. When she leans back I can see it's a number, followed by a smiley face, extremely large and overlapping some of the scribbled notes on the page. Beca looks simultaneously thrilled and horrified by the gesture, red rising in her cheeks.

“I'll be here tomorrow anyway, same time, but you know. Just in case you needed it.” Chloe gestures towards the number as she throws her bag over her shoulder and tucks the textbook under her arm. Then she smiles at Beca one last time and vanishes out the door.

Beca's still red, and staring at the upside-down number on her notebook, trying and failing to suppress a grin even larger than any of the ones I've seen Chloe sport this afternoon.

 

It's at this moment that she suddenly notices that I'm staring and her expression quickly turns to murderous.  
“What are you looking at, weirdo?”

I just grin back at her briefly, before shutting my laptop, shoving it in my backpack and moving quickly towards the door without a word. I've done plenty of work for today. Besides, I need an excuse to come back tomorrow now anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, so I wrote the first chapter of this purely as a one-shot, but I couldn't get this next chapter out of my head, so you get another one too :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

I never made it back to the café the next day in the end. I had meant to, I really, really wanted to, in fact. But an accidentally un-set alarm combined with a forgotten-about afternoon seminar meant the day was over before I even got a chance to think I'd missed something else as well.

I went the day after instead, to finally complete that assignment, but Beca and Chloe weren't there. Fortunately, this time the inspiration was going crazy, and the words bubbled out until I'd written over 3000 without looking up from the screen, my coffee abandoned and cold next to me.

I don't see Beca and Chloe again until nearly a month later, when I've almost entirely forgotten about ever meeting them at all. But Chloe's red hair reminds me as soon as I spot it, standing at the café’s counter a few people in front of me, handing money over to the cashier. She's managing, in the 30 second conversation, to make the man laugh at something I can't hear. After she collects her two coffees from the barista, I watch as she walks over to the same table they sat at on their first meeting. I wonder briefly if they consider it “their” table, the same way I do. Beca's already sitting there, scrolling through something on her phone absent-mindedly, but shoving it in her pocket with a surprisingly sweet smile as Chloe approaches the seat opposite.

 

“Sir...uh, sir? What can I get you?”  
  
“Oh shit, sorry. Um. I'll have a latte, thanks. A really big one.”

I'm not going to miss anything this time.

I strategically decide to sit at a table behind Beca, mindful of her reaction at our last meeting. And the fact that I'm a single male intentionally creeping on two women on a maybe-date. I'm going to chose not to think about that too long, though, instead pulling out my copy of The Sun Also Rises and opening it where my library card is slipped in, marking the page.

“And Fat Amy is really what she wants people to call her? Is she insane?”  
  
“Well, yes, but not because of that. She's loud and Australian and kind of hilarious. The name suits her, I think.”  
  
Beca cackles with laugher. “Dude. You can't say things like that.”  
  
“Her NAME is Fat Amy. She doesn't care!”  
  
“Your friends are fucking weird.”  
  
“Beca!” I can hear the smile in Chloe's voice, in the way it's tinged with laughter. “I think you'd really get along. Well, you'll meet her tomorrow anyway so you can find out. She'll be at the party. You're still coming, right?”  
  
“Only because you blackmailed me into it and I was worried you'd never kiss me again if I said no.”  
  
“I didn't hear you complaining at the time. In fact, I'd say you wouldn't mind at all If I blackmailed you some more.” Chloe raised her eyebrows and waggled them a couple of times, making Beca laugh loudly.  
  
“You are the worst. Why do I like you?”  
  
Chloe grins. “I am a ray of sunshine.”  
  
“Yeah. You kind of are.”  
  
Chloe looks at Beca with one of the soppiest, sweetest smiles I've ever seen. I can only assume it's being reflected back at her too, because she keeps doing it for a potentially awkward length of time.

“I'm looking forward to meeting your friends.” Beca breaks the silence.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Well, if you like them they're probably nice, or whatever.”  
  
“Beca, I like almost everyone.”  
  
“Pff. Alright, Little Miss Sunshine. You know what I mean.”  
  
“I do.” Chloe nods, and there's a pause.

“Do they...know about me? And that I'm like, a girl, and stuff? It's not going to freak them out?”  
  
“Beca, they are dying to meet you because I've been talking their ears off about you ever since we first met. And besides, I told them I was bringing my _girlfriend_ to the party.”  
  
“Oh. Cool.” Beca sounds like she's trying to sound nonchalant. “You've talked about me?”  
  
“Not in like, ultra-detail. I was kinda excited, and I just needed someone to squeal to, okay? And, maybe Aubrey knows in ultra-detail.” Chloe pulls her mouth into a grimace that perfectly represents 'oops'. It's so adorable I can tell Beca will forgive her immediately.  
  
“Oh Goddddd.” Beca drawls. “You are the worst.”  
  
“I know, I'm sorry,” Chloe says, looking part bashful, part amused. They both sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping at their drinks.

 

“Oh hey, I've got another song for you to listen to, if you want to?”  
  
“Uh, duh.”  
  
“Yeah I figured,” Beca says, already riffling in her bag and pulling out her headphones. She passes them over to Chloe, who carefully pushes her red curls behind her ears before slipping them on and waiting patiently for Beca to plug them into her phone and find the track.

I hear Chloe gasp as the song starts, pushing the headphones free of one ear quickly. “You made a mash-up with Titanium in it?” She looks completely thrilled.  
  
“Yeah, it's um, one I made for you, I guess. With, uh, some of the songs you said you liked...” Chloe smiles at Beca, nose squishing up as she does so. “So pay attention.” Beca adds with fake seriousness, gesturing to the ear that's sitting uncovered.  
  
“Oh. Sorry.” Chloe spends the rest of the song dancing along in her chair, occasionally singing parts of the songs with a sweet, confident voice that carries just far enough to turn a couple more heads in her and Beca's direction.

“This song is really, really good Beca. And I'm not just saying that because it's all songs I like, and you made it for me. And because I like you. Though that makes it like, extra good, you know.” Chloe waves her hands around enthusiastically. “But I would love this and squeal if I heard it on the radio and it was made by like, some stranger who I don't know. Honestly. It's amazing, Beca.”  
  
“Thank you.” Beca sounds the most sincere I've heard her. She sighs. “I'm still never going to get to play anything on the student radio though.”  
  
“Ugh. Screw that station manager guy. If he doesn't want to play your stuff then he's a big fat man-boob and probably wouldn't know talent if it did a naked dance in his face.”  
  
“Maybe I should do a naked dance in his face.”  
  
“With this track playing in the background?! Yes! It's a genius plan.” Chloe nods quickly, both of them giggling.  
  
“Foolproof I'd say.”  
  
“Though I have to say, I'd be a little bit sad if stupid-head radio man got to see you naked before I do.” Chloe leans forward, right across the table so that her face is very close to Beca's.  
  
“Chloe!” Beca looks from side to side, as though checking that nobody else heard. “Have I mentioned that you are the worst? You're going to be the actual death of me, Chloe Beale.”  
  
“I just hope you can at least stay alive until I've seen you naked.”  
  
“Dude!!”  
  
Chloe folds forward with the force of her laughter. Beca takes the opportunity of Chloe's closeness and quickly, briefly presses her lips to Chloe's.

I decide this might be my cue to leave, and turn around to pull my jacket back on. When I look back the two of them are now both leaning on their arms on the table, talking quietly with their faces very close. As I slip the marker back in my book I realise I've read approximately two and a half pages.

 

* * *

 

Over the next few months I see them alone sometimes, walking around campus, buying takeaway coffee (sometimes two), heading to classes. One time I see Chloe wearing Beca's headphones, and another time Beca's wearing a Barden hoodie from some kind of music club with 'Chloe' printed on the back.

I see them together a couple of times too. Once in the quad with a rowdy group of girls, one of whom I think could maybe be Fat Amy. She's doing a weird interpretive dance that is making the whole group crease up with raucous laughter I can hear from a good distance away. Chloe's standing behind Beca, arms wrapped around her, chin rested on her shoulder, with Beca's hands lightly holding onto Chloe's forearms. As they both laugh loudly along with everyone else Beca breaks their position briefly to dance along with whatever Maybe-Fat-Amy is doing before Chloe envelops her again.

The other time is in the Library at some awful hour of the night. As I come around the corner into the Russian Literature section I see them suddenly unfold from one another on the only good sofa the library owns, flushing ridiculously. I decide that time to just immediately turn around and study on a different floor. I think it was for the best.

 

The next time I see them at their table in the café it's already May and everything's winding down for the summer. I'm sitting a couple of tables away with an iced mocha and a different Hemingway, but the place is so quiet I can overhear them anyway.

Chloe's going through the motions of opening, pouring and stirring a sugar into her coffee whilst Beca just watches her unabashedly, hands wrapped around her coffee mug, a small smile on her face.  
  
“I love you, weirdo.”  
  
Chloe looks up suddenly, her eyes on Beca and her smile endless.   
“I know.” Chloe takes a small sip of her coffee, the smile never fading. “It's my favourite when you say that.”  
  
Beca's smile grows just as wide as Chloe's, making her eyes crinkle at the edges.“You're ridiculous.”  
  
“And you're the most adorable badass I've ever met.”  
  
Beca grins. “Fuck you.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I'm holding you to that, later.”  
  
“You should. And I love you too.”

 

I can't help it. I'm graduating, so I know I won't see them again. As I pass their table on the way out I quickly throw them the folded note I've scribbled on a ripped-out notepad page.

“What the fuck?” I can hear Beca say as I rush out the door, a massive smile on my face.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Beca & Chloe,

This might seem totally insane but I was sat at the same table when you two met for the first time. I've sort of noticed you around since because I felt oddly invested. I hope that's not too weird and stalkerish. It probably is, but I'm graduating this summer so don't worry, you can sleep well at night knowing you are stalker-free (from next Tuesday, at least). Anyway, what I wanted to say mainly was that you guys are perfect for each other and fucking adorable and please never stop being that way.

-Liam, your secret admirer x

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So a comment on the last chapter put this idea in my head and it wouldn't go away. So here it is, the third chapter of my oneshot fic (ha) in which we delve into the future.

 

I've been hearing the name Beca Mitchell here and there for several months before I first hear her music on the radio. I'm not generally one for keeping up with what I affectionately call What the Kids Listen To, but I do work in a school, so stuff seeps in. Besides, I'm vaguely working on this side project in which I attempt to make a bunch of teenagers think I'm at least a _little_ bit cool (it's hit and miss), so I try to pay attention occasionally. Anyway, I don't mind learning about Beca Mitchell's music after I hear it for the first time, because it's actually _really_ good.

It's a couple of weeks more before I realise that this Beca Mitchell is the same person as the Beca from Barden. After all, I never knew her surname, and I wasn't expecting to ever encounter her again, especially not on the radio. Quite frankly I'd forgotten she even existed, but it all comes flooding back as easily as anything once I have a face to match to the name. She hasn't really changed a bit, considering our last contact was nearly eight years ago.

 

I'd told my wife about my encounters with Beca and Chloe, on something like our fourth date. We were in a coffee shop, (though we didn't meet in one, alas) and something about the atmosphere reminded me of those days at Barden; reminded me of the two of them. The café was cosy, soundtracked with the crashes and whirs of busy baristas, and there was a story developing amongst the steamed-up windows, puddles outside, the chatter of friends; an air of being witness to something new and special. I knew that I was currently sharing my slice of lemon drizzle with someone who was going to become very important to me (I could feel it in my belly, I think, somehow, a fluttering sort of sensation that seemed to be sending never-ending smiles up to my face).

So I'd described to her how I'd watched Beca and Chloe interact, and I could see the laughter building up in her face, but she was holding it in, bubbling under the surface with it. It made her eyes crease up at the edges.

She finally let the laugh break free as I reached the part about chucking the note at them, throwing her head back. I remember watching her, wondering why it would turn out to be this laugh in particular that made my whole body tingle strangely. Why it was this woman that made my cheeks ache with the ferocity of the grin I couldn't hold in.

So as I channel-hop on a quiet, rainy evening (looking for some background noise for the papers I'm grading) and it suddenly becomes clear who this Beca is, it's telling my wife about Beca and Chloe that I think of first, rather than the girls themselves.

 

Even so, I'm excited, and in my haste to sit up straighter when I notice it's Beca sitting at the sofa on James Corden's late show, I bash my knees into the coffee table loudly. The jolt nearly upends my tea over a tenth grader's interpretation on the weather symbolism in The Great Gatsby (truly ground-breaking it may not be, but hey, you've got to start somewhere) and I rush to grab the cup before any sloshes over the rim.

“Shit, ow.”

Beca's on the screen telling James Corden about a red panda she met at a zoo, and she's being ridiculously charming and awkward about it, blushing nervously while the audience laugh.

By the time I've grabbed my wife from the bedroom to watch with me, they've moved onto something more serious.

“I mean yeah, I never intended to actually be in the spotlight myself. _Definitely_ never intended or imagined I'd be doing late night talk shows (not that this isn't super pleasant, James, of course) but I always just wanted to _produce_ music. So I have been doing that, for quite a while now, I mean you may have heard about that, I'm reasonably successful-” she shrugs and laughs.  
  
“I've heard one or two things, maybe, one or two things.”  
  
“-and I guess I realised I wanted to say some stuff of my own, just really have fun and go wild and make Beca music.”

Later, when she's behind an intricate keyboard and synth set-up, surrounded by her band and a young singer (Emily Bella- I need to look that one up) she's suddenly not awkward at all. The looping, delicate electronic sounds mould and twist around thumping, twinkling percussion, a detailed (almost sweet) guitar melody, and several brass instruments, and somehow (how?) it sounds incredible.

Beca smirks at the camera when the audience whoops and screams at the end, but the tinge of the blush is still there too.

 

* * *

 

 

A couple of days later the same song comes on the radio whilst I’m eating lunch in my classroom, and when it's done I flip open my laptop to search for it online. I want to listen again (did I mention? It’s really good) so I prop myself back on two chair legs (and yes, it's detention-worthy if the kids do it, but there are limited thrills in this job so I take what I can get) to turn off the radio on the shelf behind me. The song’s the first thing to come up on my Youtube search, but underneath it is a video called “In the Studio with...Beca Mitchell” and I find myself clicking on that instead.  
  
It’s twelve minutes of her showing a overenthusiastic MTV reporter around her studio space, but Beca seems more comfortable with him (and the single camera) than in front of the intimidating studio audience, and it’s oddly captivating.

“This is where the magic happens,” Beca says at the camera with a smirk before leading the reporter over to a massive desk that spans a whole wall, and is littered with papers, notebooks, flash drives and a selection of strange musical instruments (I spot a melodica, some castanets, and, for some reason, a toy piano like the one Schroeder plays in Peanuts). They talk for a little while about the range of instruments Beca uses, the way she blends them so unexpectedly together. She looks bashful at the compliments as she tries to explain what a certain odd-looking whistle can add to a song, how everything has it's part to play if you just know where to put it. There's an energy in the way she holds herself when she talks about her music, suddenly assured and content where she was previously clumsy.

I’m amused by the state of her workspace- she appears to have made no effort to clear up- and the presenter seems to be too.  
  
“Don’t tell my mom.” Beca says with mock-seriousness, pointing at him.  
  
“What about at home- is this sort of chaos tolerated there too?”  
  
“Nice segue” Beca notes with an eyebrow raise and a quick laugh. She’s obviously been waiting for the subject of whatever or whoever is at home to come up. (I’m suddenly struck with a thought- is she still with Chloe? I hadn’t even really considered it- it was such a long time ago.)  
  
“But no- I can be tidy when I want to be. I try to keep it contained in here. The mess helps with the creative process- or at least that’s what I tell my girlfriend, Chloe.” Woah! I rock back onto two chair legs again for a second excitedly.

“You two have been together since college, right? How has that been for her since you’ve transitioned into stardom?”  
  
Beca laughs. “Stardom? Calm down. But yeah, I mean, she’s way more excited about it than literally anyone else, so she’s cool with it. And she’s pretty great in general, so...I’m thinking I might keep her.” She beams at him for a moment, projecting that same easy confidence as when she talks about music.

“And you've been working with her recently, too?”  
  
“Yeah she runs an organisation that gives music and singing lessons to kids from disadvantaged backgrounds. So I've been working with some of them to put together an original song for their summer showcase. They are all way cooler than me, it's totally unacceptable actually. They make me feel old _far_ too often. Remind me to kick their butts for that next time I see them. Kids these days huh? How dare they be so articulate and fashionable and..young?”

Beca shows the presenter around her computer and sound desk set up, pulling up a partial track and playing along with it for a while on a strange, colourful electronic instrument whilst the two of them banter back and forth. She shows him how to play a simple tune that matches the beat, and sings whilst he tap-taps away with a grin on his face.  
  
“I’m showing Matt how to play a song, and now I’m going to bang a gong-”  
  
(She does exactly that- there’s one on the desk.)  
  
“-and it’s gonna be, on MTV.”  
  
“Beautiful,” says Matt, though actually he’s just openly laughing at her.  
  
“What can I say, I’ve never been a lyricist.”  
  
“But that’s going on your next album right?”  
  
“Obviously.”

 

The tour continues with her opening a drawer to reveal an impressive stash of peanut butter cups, and she and the presenter each sit on the couch to eat one. Behind them, the wall is covered in various framed pictures that the presenter starts to study, picking out certain ones for Beca to comment on.

She's just finished talking about a picture of her with a Barden a capella choir I vaguely remember when Matt homes in on something more interesting than “organised nerd singing” (Beca's words), and I nearly fall out of my chair.  
  
“What on earth is this?”  
  
Suddenly Beca's throwing her head back with laugher, and she pulls the picture off the wall to look at it closer.  
  
“Oh yes, this is gold. I fucking love this thing.”  
  
“THAT'S MY NOTE,” I shout through a mouthful of sandwich.

  
And it really is. My note, mounted in simple black frame that hangs on the wall of _Beca Mitchell's studio_.  
  
“There was some guy back at college, who saw my girlfriend and I when we first met apparently. Cause it was in a café, you know, and apparently he was sort of stalking us after that? To see if we were still together. But in a non-creepy way. I think. And one day he gave us this note he'd written about it, and holy crap. It was the strangest and funniest thing. We laughed for days. But also, you know, looking over our shoulders just in case. Because we'd never noticed his existence before.”  
  
“He was a sneaky stalker?”  
  
“Somehow, yes, but what he wrote makes me smile, so I kept it. And neither of us got murdered in our beds, so.”  
  
“It says you and your girlfriend are 'fucking adorable'”  
  
“Yep, still true,” and Beca's got that beaming grin again.

 

There's a cut in the video, and Beca's now standing in the recording booth attached to the studio, all set up to play an acoustic cover of her single, but I have to switch it off before she starts when the bell rings and my next group of students come filing in.

For a moment I consider telling the whole class about it, until I remember the thing where I’m trying to be cool. But still I grin like a maniac as they settle down, and they all look at me like they already _know_ I'm a massive dork. I think, okay, it's nearly the end of the school year, and they're my favourite twelfth graders.

I cue up the video I've just watched on the projector, and start my story-

“So, who of you has heard of Beca Mitchell?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got way invested in dorky famous Beca and dorky, loved-up Liam here so I hope you don't mind the delving into the random life of an original character, or the sad lack of Chloe. (I know, I'm sorry)  
> But still I hope you've enjoyed it, and thoughts are always welcome :)


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